


Prehistoric

by Zymm



Category: A Court of Thorns and Roses Series - Sarah J. Maas
Genre: Dinosaurs, F/M, Future AU, Jurassic Park AU, Jurassic World AU
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-22
Updated: 2018-06-22
Packaged: 2019-05-26 20:38:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,208
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15008993
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zymm/pseuds/Zymm
Summary: Feyre Archeron has raised these herbivores for years now, and never once had so much as a bump in the road. But suddenly this infuriating, insufferable (and gorgeous) man appears, and everything’s gone to hell. It’s all she can do to try and put him in his place.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So guess who saw the new Jurassic World movie and had to jump in on the dinosaur action? Yeah, it’s me, because I’m a piece of fanfic trash. 
> 
> This is meant to be a one-shot, but if asked to continue it I may write more. Enjoy! :)

      Feyre Archeron was positively livid.

    She’d gotten a call that morning, right around the time she’d finally looked at her tablet and figured it out herself. She’d felt that tug in her gut, felt that something was wrong, and the blinking light had only confirmed it.

    One of her Microceratus had started projecting warnings- high blood loss, lowered heart rate, broken bones. She’d stared at the pad, watching the vitals slowly get worse and worse, as they drove her through the Valley to the location.

    She had ran from the jeep before it could even park, the driver scolding her, one of the guards making a rude comment towards her. Lucien was right on her tail- after shooting the irritated guard a dirty look, of course.

    The jeep couldn’t go any further into the thick, Jurassic jungle, anyways, and her Microceratus was still blinking red on the map, further inside the Valley. Feyre was glad she’d worn her walking boots that day.

    Lucien didn’t say a word as they pushed aside the fauna, trekking through the fast-moving streams and biting insects. He didn’t say anything, because he knew just how it felt. That worry, that fear that gripped you, knowing that a creature you loved more than anything was dying.

    “It’s dead.” The guard behind them said dully, tapping away at his own tablet as he followed in the path they created. Feyre stiffened, a cold hand clasping around her heart.

    “We’re still going in there.” Lucien answered for her, pushing a large fern leaf out of his path.

    “There’s no point.” The guard sighed, poking a plant with the tip of his gun, disinterested in the conversation. “It’s the circle of life, bud.”

    “Shut your fucking mouth.” Feyre hissed, gritting her teeth so hard her jaw ached. She could already feel the tears stinging at her eyes, feel the breakdown waiting to happen. God, she’d been so careful, so protective of this generation- the last time this had happened had been months ago.

    “Feyre,” Lucien said softly, placing a hand on her shoulder, which she promptly shoved off. She didn’t want to be touched; honestly, she wished she could’ve came out here completely alone. But rules were rules, and there was to be a guard on you at all times in any places outside the main park area.

    And Lucien was just too damn nice for his own good. He understood what she was going through more than anyone.

    Feyre’s heart stopped when they reached the clearing, her whole body going cold, numb.

    The Microceratus was there. But the guard hadn’t been lying.

    She dropped to her knees beside the little form, already pulling materials from her bag. The stench of blood was staggering, the coppery tang laying heavy in the air around them.

    She knew it was no use, but she still pulled out the stitching materials, the sedatives, the gauze- her hands shook, tears clouding her eyes.

    “No, no, no,” Feyre muttered- her hands were shaking so badly that she couldn’t begin to wrap any of the many, many wounds.

    “Feyre.” Lucien said quietly, coming to kneel beside her. He didn’t reach out to the poor dinosaur, though; he knew it was over.

    The lacerations- god, they were terrible. Huge claw marks that flayed the small creature alive. It was a fully grown Microceratus, but still under three feet tall, only fifteen pounds at the most. Fourteen point six, to be exact, because Feyre had been so happy last time she’d weighed this one in.

    “It’s okay. It’s not your fault.” Lucien said softly, taking her still shaking hands into her own- she looked at him, a pitiful sob escaping her mouth before she could hold it in. It was her fault, though. She shouldn’t of cleared them for moving into the Valley. She should’ve kept them in the petting zoo area, or the botanical gardens. Not the real environment.

    Feyre just nodded numbly at him, and then went back to the Microceratus. Lucien made a noise to stop her, thinking she was still trying to heal the doomed creature.

    He stopped when she took off her jacket, laying it out in front of her. The guard offered a tarp, some sort of regulation clean-up item; but Feyre shook her head firmly.

    “It was my own.” She said simply, folding the little form into the olive green of her jacket, wrapping the fabric around it. Blood already began to darken the cloth, visible from the outside.

    Their trip back was much slower, trekking through the jungle with a quiet air of mourning. Even the insufferable guard said nothing. Feyre just held onto that little body with reverence, letting Lucien’s hand at her back guide them back.

 

    And so Feyre had mourned, all the way back to the herbivore station. By the time they arrived, though, she had began to examine the wounds closer.

Not from a giant creature, no; it would’ve eaten the Microceratus whole. It hadn’t been eaten, either, as if the thing had killed for fun. For sport. It left a bad taste in her mouth.

“I’ve got to go pay someone a visit.” Feyre told Lucien, not looking him in the eyes as she glared off, towards the other side of the park.

“I could, if you wanted me to.” He responded quietly, his tone guarded and carefully constructed.

But no, Feyre could never do that to him. She’d never make Lucien go back to the carnivore side of the park, back to where they bred and raised them. Lucien had a love for all creatures, just as she did, but he held the carnivores with a cold reverence. Not quite fearful, because that usually brought on hate, which Lucien could never feel for them. But his feelings for them were not kind.

It was why he had that nasty scar on his face, that bionic eye. Of course he would stay far, far away from the things that had maimed him so.

“No. It was my creature that died.” Feyre said firmly. “And they deserve to hear it from me.”

“I’ll be with the brachiosaurus today, in the west Valley. If you need me.” Lucien said, still giving her that guarded, indifferent tone. She could at least breathing a sigh of relief knowing he’d be going out into the west Valley today, would be given that bit of comfort.

Lucien Vanserra loved the gentle giants, more than anyone she’d ever met before. While Feyre had dealt more with the smaller herbivores, Lucien had sought the giants, raising them as infants the size of horses. He could stand by a herd of the large ones, as tall as a skyscraper, feeling the ground shake before them, and he’d simply smile.

At least one of them would get that comfort after the rough morning they’d experienced together.

 

\---------------

 

Rhysand Knight was overwhelmed, to say the least.

Cassian and Azriel had been at his side all morning, concern clearly written onto their faces, both looking for him to make a move.  If they were a pack, Rhysand would be the alpha, leading them in their faithful service, even if he hated to think of it that way. They were equals.

But Cassian was still sucking on his teeth, shooting him those thoughtful looks when he thought he wasn’t looking. Azriel was still tapping on whatever surface they leaned on, quietly letting out that nervous energy.

“Did you give them an answer?” Cassian blurted out finally, looking almost sheepish at his outburst. It was almost humorous- the gigantic, muscled man, seeming embarrassed.

“Yes.” Rhysand said.

“Well?” Azriel responded, impatiently- a rare emotion for him. Hell, all emotions  were rare for him.

“I told them to go fuck themselves.” Rhysand shrugged, tugging his leather gauntlets on over his forearms. Cassian’s jaw dropped, as well as the tablet he’d been clutching.

“You didn’t.” Cassian blubbered.

“Tell me you didn’t.” Azriel all but moaned.

“Maybe not the exact words, but the sentiment was most definitely the same.” Rhysand confirmed. He felt a flare of anger, reliving the morning’s events again. He didn’t regret his response one bit.

“That’s the goddamn military,  Rhys.” Cassian said, tugging at the strands of inky hair that fell around his face, escaping the usual bun he tamed it with.

“And they shouldn’t stick their nose where it doesn’t belong.” Rhysand said, firmly, conversation over. But Cassian had to push  it further, even though he could clearly see- Rhysand’s tense form, his shoulders bunched, his movements slow, calculated- that it was a bad idea.

“They could easily just take them from us. Just like that.” Cassian muttered, shaking his head in disbelief. “You can’t mouth off to them like that, Rhys-”

“It was just Tamlin, that tool. He acts like he has the power but he doesn’t. Not enough to take them away from us.” Rhysand said strongly, shoving his leather gloves over his hands, a bit forcefully.

“Besides,” He added, after his two brothers had descended into silence. “They’d take them over our dead, rotting corpses.”

And with that thought, and a brilliant, cunning smile, Rhysand left to go enter the Compound.

 

The Raptor Compound wasn’t the largest, or the most advanced building on the island. Hell, they were creating damn dinosaurs here. Nothing could possibly be the most advanced facility, with how fast they were churning out ground-breaking tech.

But it was still marvelous in its own right, a sight that make Rhysand beam everytime he saw it. It was like home, albeit a dangerous, worrisome one. But what fun was a home without those aspects?

Cassian had bounded ahead of them to the catwalk, the sturdy metal bridges that ran over the cage. It criss-crossed overhead the exhibit, connecting to the tall steel walls that made up the enclosure.

He always walked like he owned the place, striding past the normal guards that surveyed the Compound at every hour of the day. It was nothing if not highly, highly guarded.

“They’re restless.” One of the guards said as soon as Rhysand stepped foot on the catwalk, a sheen of sweat coating his face; it was always hot and stuffy on Isla Nublar, its tropic climate unyielding. Rhysand had a feeling it was from more than just the weather, though.

“How so?” He prompted. The guard sighed.

“Well, we let them around the Valley this morning-”

“What?” Rhysand snapped- Cassian had heard the outburst from another catwalk and was already bounding over, Azriel on his heels.

“We were told they needed to be let out, just around this side of the Valley-”

“And who told you that?” Rhysand growled. God, he was going to skin whoever gave the command alive- their Raptors could just be let out among the Valley’s inhabitants, even if it was mostly closed off to the rest of the park. They were in the most remote areas, and they had trackers, but god, with how they’d been acting lately-

“One of the military men, sir.” The guard said quickly, fearful as Rhysand stared down at him. Rhysand swore.

Of course. Of course they’d do something to try and prove how bad and untrained his raptors were, just so they could sweep in to ‘help’. Tamlin had just been a distraction to keep Rhysand busy, and he suspected the other chores Az and Cassian were doing this morning were probably part of his plan, as well.

“Those fucking bastards.” Cassian snarled, gripping the railways hard. A gentle breeze shifted through the air, easing the strain of the humid climate, but not touching the boiling tempers of the three males.

“I haven’t seen any of them yet.” Azriel muttered, squinting his eyes among all the land of the Compound he could see. They’d have to continue on the catwalks if they wanted any hopes of spying them today.

“They’re restless since we let them out, hiding and darting around. Barely been able to keep an eye on them.” The guard finished, thankful Rhysand’s attention was elsewhere.

He just couldn’t believe it. Couldn’t believe they’d have that much gall, to try and sabotage their whole fucking program, just because they wouldn’t give up their raptors to be some twisted military project.

“I need to see Blue.” Rhysand grumbled.

“You’ve also got a visitor.” The guard said, and if anything, he seemed even more nervous than before, now not even meeting Rhysand in the eye.

“If it’s the military again, I’ll throw them from the goddamn catwalk.” Rhysand didn’t bother being polite and correct in front of the Compound men. It was his territory, and they followed him. In all honesty, they’d probably go along if he decided to give that tool a piece of his mind.

“It’s not.” The guard said quietly, nodding his head to a catwalk on the other side of the Compound.

Rhysand squinted, focusing on the figure- a woman, he realized with a raised brow. They never got women anywhere near the Compound, or even on this side of the park.

And it wasn’t just a woman, because that would make things too easy, Rhysand thought with a sigh. No, it was a beautiful one, light brown hair trailing in the light breeze behind her, framing high cheekbones and delicate features. And a loose, button down shirt, tucked into flimsy shorts that let him truly appreciate those long, long legs. He looked far longer than he should’ve, but Rhysand Knight wasn’t about to apologize.

Cassian let out a low whistle.

“I’ll volunteer to visit.” Cassian said, a wicked smirk on his handsome features as he clearly emphasized the last word.

The woman turned, as if just seeing them for the first time; her features smoothly slid into a nasty scowl.

“You sure about that, Cassian?” Rhysand teased, even though part of him groaned. Of course he’d have to go deal with a gorgeous woman, one who, by the looks of it, already despised him. It was just that kind of day.

Cassian shrugged. “I’m only kind of deterred.”

“We’ll go find the pack.” Azriel answered for Rhysand, giving him a knowing look as he escorted his brother away, on an opposite catwalk. Cassian gave Rhysand a dramatic salute, a last motion of luck sent his way.

Rhysand rolled his eyes. His job was to work with velociraptors, for god’s sake. He could handle a pissy woman. Especially an attractive one.

“And to whom should I send the flowers, for inviting a beautiful woman to my Compound?” Rhysand said smoothly, plastering a sly grin on his face.

And up close, she was even more stunning- he could see the freckles on her face, the greenish-grey of her eyes, the dark lashes. Maybe he’d snag a date, a night out of this one, if she could get the scowl off her pretty red mouth.

“You could try my mutilated Microceratus. But she’d now in a grave.” The woman said, staring him down, even as she stood at least half a foot shorter than him.

He could only raise his eyebrows at that, taking the seductive grin from his face. This just got much more interesting- or maybe difficult. He hadn’t decided which.

“And I’m assuming this is my fault somehow?” Rhysand asked. Her face darkened considerably.

“Yes, you and your damned animals.” She all but snarled. “They murdered one of mine  this morning, for sport.”

For sport? He’d never seen them do anything of  that sort. They were carnivores, killers by instinct,  but always for survival, for food. Never for sport.

“I think you’re mistaken.” He responded, trying to be as gentle as possible, because he could understand where  her rage came from; but he still fought back the urge to growl at her, to protect his own creatures. He knew them much better than she ever could.

“They were the only ones in that sector this morning.” She hissed, pointing a finger in his direction, almost touching his chest. “You can even go look at my Microceratus if you’d like- raptor claws, shredding it to the bone. It’s unmistakable.”

“And so what if they did it for sport, then?” Rhysand all but growled, stepping forward, into her finger; she didn’t budge, though. He was surprised- he usually pushed too far, having a dark, commanding air that followed him like a second skin. He wasn’t used to people simply not giving a shit about him.

“Then I’ll get this whole goddamn Compound moved. Maybe even shut down.” She offered, a dirty grin crossing her face, wholly devoid of anything bright or happy.

Something inside him roared, but he pushed it down with a fake, condescending laugh. “Oh, darling. Many much, much stronger than you have tried.”

“Don’t test me.” She said, her tone quiet, cold. So quiet and controlled that he almost had to lean in to hear her words. Her eyes were so sharp he was almost pained to meet them.

“Go take care of your weak, little things.” Rhysand shot back, losing a bit of the power in his voice, wondering if perhaps she did know things he didn’t. He didn’t even know her position at the park- he could be talking to the goddamn vice president, for all he knew.

“That weak, little thing your raptor murdered today was a mother.” She said quietly, her voice pained, but still strong as steel. “She left behind four others, all children, all now having to grow without an example, without protection. Think about that next time you send your killing machines out there into the parks.”

Rhysand opened his mouth, but couldn’t find the words to respond. He wanted to be snarky, to shoot back an insult, wanted to give a solution, wanted to say sorry.

But she was already turning on her heel, swiftly exiting the Compound. She walked so steady on the catwalk, in a place that most never dared to step foot on. She walked as if she belonged.

 

\------------------

 

Feyre barely functioned the rest of the day, caught up in a nasty mixture of grief, fury, and worry.

She’d been angrier after she talked to the man than before she did, completely defeating  the purpose of the talk in the first place. She’d hoped to find some middle ground, some agreement. Some sort of restriction on those creatures. Instead she found an insufferable alpha male, shooting back every furious thing she threw at him.

It didn’t help that he was quite possibly the most gorgeous man she’d ever met- dark, inky hair that was just long enough to be messy, just long enough to tug if she wanted to (she did), violet-blue eyes, and chiseled, devilish features. And a body she didn’t even want  to dwell on, not in the workplace. Maybe later, at her house.

But god. If he wasn’t the most infuriating person she’d ever dealt with. Insisting his precious killers were innocent, insisting  he not take any blame. Bastard.

She almost broke a vial of liquid Triceratops vitamins just thinking about him later that day- she would’ve been in deep shit if she did, which only made her angrier, that  he distracted her yet again.

    Lucien came to check on her, toting her favorite meal from the park cafeteria. She’d barely touched it, instead ranting to him about that stupid, idiotic man. God, she almost wished she raised carnivores instead now, so she could breed something to give one of his raptor what they deserved.

    But that was awful of her. They lived to raise and nurture these animals, not to murder them because of human feuds.

    She clocked out late that night, sometime  around eight. They’d been even busier in the herbivore petting  zoo this spring, so she’d been doing nothing but feeding and grooming and tending to the  babies. It was usually something reserved for low-level interns, but she loved doing it. And it gave her a place to seethe quietly.

    But now she had to do the difficult part of her day, the one she’d been dreading.

    There were four Microceratus infants back at the small enclosure on the outskirts of the park. She’d ordered them to be moved from the Valley to the contained area after this morning’s findings.

    Four Microceratus, all without a mother now. She wondered if they knew that yet.

    But they’d need milk, and Feyre would have to do her damned best to raise them. It would be a task-  normally she ‘raised’ by guiding the mother, nurturing the infants when the mother fell short. But this was a whole other task.

    So she carried four large feeding containers across the park, taking in the silence. At night, most of the park closed from visitors, save for the Main Street Area. It left quiet roads, bathed in starlight. If you ignored the glow of lights on the horizon, you could almost pretend that it wasn’t a park, but rather millions of years ago.

    As she approached the gates to the area, startling the guards with the headlights of her jeep, she noticed another park jeep parked nearby. Odd, since there weren’t many other dinosaurs held in this area, save for her own Microceratus pack.

    She hopped out of her vehicle, waving to the guards- they’d didn’t even bother to card her, used to her late-night excursions around the park- and entered the small area.

It was only a meadow, really, illuminated by large stadium lights. The four little Microceratus, glowing shades of orange and green and brown, ran around in the grass, content to be young.

But who was sitting in the middle of all of it irritated her even more.

“Hello, darling.” The man from earlier purred, sitting amongst the grassy plains, leaning back, elbows braced on the ground behind him. He looked utterly at ease, and the Microceratus infants- those traitors- were curling up around him, jumping on his limbs, nuzzling into him. Oh, she’d have a talk with them later.

“Go away.” She spat, setting her tools down on the ground. God, he probably came to gloat.

“I never got your name.” He said simply, stroking a few fingers down the bill of one of the infants- it all but purred, falling into his touch.

“You don’t need it.” Feyre shot back. When she pulled out a container of Microceratus milk, they all but swarmed her instead, and she fought back the childish urge to give him a gloating grin.

She let the strongest one push to the front, suckling gladly on the tip of the bottle. She ignored the man for the task at hand, gently nudging the infant into her lap. It was easier to hold it that way, and it was small enough to tuck right into her lap like a housecat, drunk on milk.

Feyre heard the tinkling of the bottles too late.

“Leave that alone!” She said angrily, until she realized what he was doing.

The man had shedded his vest, pushing up his button-down shirt to his elbows, exposing strong forearms that she pretended not to notice. Preparing himself.

And then he’d grabbed one of the bottles, and those traitorous Microceratus had swarmed him, one all but jumping on him to start drinking from the bottle. And it curled into his lap with barely more than a nudge of his hand, seeming so small and fragile in his large hands, tucked into his muscular form.

“I wasn’t with my raptors this morning.” He said after a moment, the sly, seductive look gone from his eyes as he watched the little dinosaur greedily drinking in his lap. “The military has been dogging us for years to use them. And now they’ve gotten impatient. They sent my raptors out this morning, to stir up trouble, probably to use that against us.”

Oh.

Feyre didn’t feel that bad, but perhaps a little guilty, at how she’d acted earlier. She assumed that the man had directed his pack to do their worst, not caring for the lives of the small, weaker dinosaurs.

But here he was, cross-legged on the grass of a tiny enclosure, well after nine in the evening. Nursing the runt of the pack, an orphan to an already delicate species.

“Feyre.” She said finally, swallowing down her pride and looking him dead on. “That’s my name.”

He smiled, a handsome grin on his face, finally devoid of any sassy remark or hidden intent. It was pure.

“It’s a pleasure to finally put a name to the scowl.” He said, grinning.

“I still don’t have a name for the grossly oversized ego.”  

For a moment, Feyre wondered if she’d went to far; but then he tipped his head back, a throaty laugh coming from him. He scared the Microceratus in his lap, making it shift with the laughter moving his chest.

“I’m Rhysand. I have a feeling you’ll need to know it.” He- Rhysand- responds, winking at her in a way that has her turning red all over. “For future reference, of course.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I finally got my day off work and how do I spend it? Writing more on the fic I published like, six hours ago, of course.

The sunrise over Isla Nublar was one of the most beautiful, humbling views Feyre had the honor of seeing every single morning.

No matter how busy she was, she’d always stop at her dining room table to look out the giant, floor-to-ceiling windows that led onto her balcony. It was positioned to the sunrise, allowing the bright rays of orange and red to stream through and illuminate her home, up on the thirty-second floor of Jurassic Towers.

And it illuminated the island even better, creeping over the rich, green jungles and the rolling meadows, out into the sparkling waters beyond. If you squinted, you could make out the tall necks of Apatosauruses and Brachiosauruses, the slender forms of what looked like birds on the horizon- but actually just Pteradons, bathing in the sunlight.

If Feyre craned her neck just right, she could see the edge of the visitor park on her vision, the towering labs and discovery buildings, the expansive main-street. In just a few hours, it would be filling with excited guests, all scrambling to see the once-extinct creatures.

It made her smile, even as she shrugged on her worn jacket- this one a sandy tan that almost matched her hair, since the olive colored one she loved so dearly had been soaked in Microceratus blood the night before.

The thought of yesterday sobered her a bit- she’d forgotten about finding the corpse.

She and Rhysand had stayed in the Microceratus infant enclosure for almost two hours last night, feeding the creatures and checking them over for wounds, sprains. Without a mother there, they’d have to keep a close eye on them.

_ She  _ would, not ‘they’. There wasn’t a ‘they’.

It was just Rhysand paying his own respects, since his creatures had been the reason it had happened in the first place. It wasn’t going to be a reoccurring thing. They all had specific jobs around here, and her and Rhysand’s were firmly separated. 

Feyre had way too much to do today, anyways- there’d been a kid nearly injured after riding an infant Triceratops in the petting zoo yesterday. She’d have to go deal with the feisty thing- the dinosaur, not the human, thank god- and see if the sudden personality change pointed to an injury or infection.

And then there was the newborn Brachiosaurus they’d had the brilliant idea of throwing in the petting zoo- it was the size of a large pony, for goodness sake. It was just a matter of time before it grew too big and accidentally snapped a kid’s leg.

Feyre sighed. She’d need another cup of coffee before she went out there.

Feyre strolled down the Main Street, passing by the park early birds, all eagerly gawking at the sights and sounds. The park was always filled to maximum capacity, a wait list just to plan a trip to visit. It was annoying, the huge, loud crowds, but she understood it completely- if she wasn’t already working as a Paleobiologist here, she’d be fighting tooth and nail to come visit.

Her office- more of a veterinary clinic, if anything, with how often it hosted small dinosaurs- was situated across the Main Street, in between the petting zoo and the west Valley, home to most of the herbivores and non-aggressive carnivores.

But as she approached the petting zoo, already filling with giggling children, she felt something was off. There was another car parked near the zoo, in between it and the herbivore center.

Dark green, largely unmarked- not a park vehicle. Military.

She remembered what Rhysand had said last night- they’d  been sticking their nose into the genetic engineering with a dark interest, perhaps even going further.

Feyre raced to the front doors, sidestepping the wayward guests and fellow coworkers, the only thought on her mind that something may have gone terribly, terribly wrong.

A hand reached out to grab her as she raced past the military vehicle, pulling her elbow.

She let out a noise, half surprise, half pain, and the hand let go.

“Feyre!” Tamlin said pleasantly, a broad grin on his handsome face. Feyre took him in- his short, golden hair was disheveled, which was very out of character for him. Even his clothes looked a bit wrinkled, out of place. Was that blood or dirt on the cuff of his uniform-

“Feyre, are you alright?” He asked, his brows furrowed as he examined her.

“Yes, just fine.” Feyre said stiffly, putting a fake grin on her face; he visibly eased, matching her grin with a nice smile of his own.

“I just got done surveying the west Valley this morning.” Tamlin told her, a bit awkwardly- as if he was a child, caught with a hand in the cookie jar.

Surveying? Without a park guide? That wasn’t good, at all.

“Surveying before dawn?” Feyre pressed, raising a brow.

“Some of us operate on earlier hours, Feyre.” Tamlin laughed, and Feyre tried not to turn her nose up at him. Condescending as ever, no surprise.

She’d went on a few dates with the guy in the past few months, ever since he and his group had been stationed there, for reasons they wouldn’t indicate. He’d seemed so nice, like he actually cared about the dinosaurs, not like the rest of the military groups that kept showing up to survey the dinosaurs like livestock up for sale.

She shuddered to think about what they must be planning.

In her silence, he’d taken to looking over at the zoo, turning his nose up.

“God, the animals reek.” Tamlin said, shaking his head, a small smile on his face.

Oh, yeah. After seeing his handsome face again, she’d almost forgotten why she’d stopping talking to him. Almost.

“I don’t think you should be surveying before light, without a park guide.” Feyre said firmly, pulling herself up to her full height in front of him, staring him down.

Tamlin raised an eyebrow at her. “No offense, Feyre, but I don’t think you have the clearance to comment on my actions.”

There it was, the whole ‘you don’t tell me what to do’, wrapped up in a package of nice, fake-polite words. Asshole.

“What could you possibly have to do with the herbivores?” She shot back.

“Again, above your clearance, love.” Tamlin said smoothly. “I admire your integrity, but I think you should stick to raising the plant-eaters.”

“Why the herbivores.” Feyre ground out again, gritting her teeth, squinting at him against the bright island sun. From her view, the sunlight created a sort of halo around his silhouette, lighting up his golden form; such a stark contrast to the dark look he was giving her now, his temper barely in check.

“It’s none of your business, Feyre, and I don’t know that it will ever be.” He all but snarled back, and for a moment Feyre was grateful for the guests around them, the children giggling a few feet away. A good barrier to keep his temper in check.

“Everything that so much as  _ touches  _ those herbivores is very much my goddamn business.” She shot back, fighting fire with fire. Not the smartest choice.

But Tamlin sighed, rubbing a hand over his face. “I’m sorry, Feyre. It’s been a long week, and I shouldn’t take that out on you. Let me talk to my superiors, and perhaps we can inform you on more of this later.”

She was  all but fuming now- he was trying to distract her, to pretend like she’d won to make her compliant.

“There’s a lot of things, a lot of uses for those dinosaurs that you all aren’t exploring.” Tamlin finished, his green eyes alight with something she could place. Greed, lust perhaps, at she shuddered to think why.

“Just stay the hell out of the west Valley.” Feyre finished for him.

“You and I both know we can’t do that-”

“I wasn’t asking.” 

Tamlin sighed, not giving her an answer. At least he wasn’t a liar, she thought dryly. 

“I’ll give you a call later, maybe set up another night I could take you out.” Tamlin said as he climbed into his vehicle. Feyre was glad he turned his back on her, so he could miss the look of disgust that took over her features. Yeah, so they could talk about how he was trying to potentially put  _ her  _ herbivores in danger.

He gave her a wink as he drove off, one that made her almost growl a response back to him, in front of all the small children at the zoo.

She took out her phone, fishing in her pocket for the number she’d received last night. It looked like the newborn Brachiosaurus and the disobedient Triceratops would have to wait.

 

\------------

 

“Blue!” Rhysand all but roared, an angry sound that echoed across the Compound walls, stilling the men that stood at watch on the catwalks above. Even Azriel and Cassian, flanking him, had stiffened at his tone.

Rhysand Knight didn’t usually raise his voice, especially not at the creatures, but when he did, everyone listened.

The alpha raptor, though, did not; he snapped in his direction, an angry flurry of clicks thrown at him. 

“He’s been like this since yesterday,” Azriel muttered from beside him, glancing around the Compound, marking their areas.

They were their raptors- all three of them had raised them from birth, like a young child would a dog. They were barely out of high school when they’d started training them, letting them imprint on them.

But they were still wild animals- wild  _ dinosaurs _ \- and they treated them as such, always keeping a watchful eye out.

“You’re testing my patience.” Rhysand growled at his raptor, shaking  his head. It couldn’t understand, not fully, of course, but it could sense his tone.  They were smarter than everyone gave them credit for- it’s why he and his brothers were tasked with the first raptor batch, to test that intelligence.

Blue jerked his head around, still snapping in his direction. At six feet tall, covered in reptilian skin that shone black-blue, it was only a few inches shorter than Rhysand himself. And those claws- longer than human fingers, almost. Blue could probably gut him before he could pull out a gun.

But he wouldn’t. Blue was just being a little shit today, and that was it.

Rhysand took another step in his direction, and Cassian reached a hand out in his direction.

“I don’t think it’s smart to get close to him like this.” He warned, nervously. They usually only touched the raptors, made contact, when the creatures allowed it. At a young age, they could be manhandled, carried, petted. But they were nearly fully-grown now.

Rhysand, of course, ignored him. 

“You’re going to stop whatever this little temper tantrum is.” Rhysand scolded him, baring his teeth towards the raptor. Blue twitched, a snarling click escaping his jaws.

“I don’t like that tone.” Rhysand said quietly, dangerously.

Above them, the guards watched, crowding on the catwalks to watch the three brothers work. Out of curiosity, and fear.

Blue had almost bit off the hand of a feeder this morning in his frenzy, which was why they’d been in here in the first place. 

“Rhys-” Azriel breathed as the man took another step forward, now within arm’s reach. 

Rhysand just held a hand towards him- stop.

Cassian gritted his teeth, completely on edge.

Blue lunged then, snapping his jaws, and everyone was in motion.

The guards above shouted, the sound of fabric rustling as guns were trained on the raptor, the catwalk moaning under the sudden movement of feet. 

Cassian shouted, both him and Azriel reaching for the small weapons they carried- not guns, no tasers, just a simple cattle prod. They’d never hurt the creatures, even like this.

But Rhysand was one step ahead of them all, already seeing it.

He grabbed Blue by the ridge of his snout, the one that connected the raptor’s nostrils and stretched back to form the head; he grasped it tightly, the raptor giving a snarl of pain.

But Blue didn’t do more than just snap in warning at him, showing his distaste.

“Put your guns up.” Rhysand snarled at the guards, not taking his eyes off the raptor that he held firmly.

If Blue wanted to, he could’ve easily clawed at him, disemboweling the man who had raised him- but he didn’t. They were smart, the raptors, smart enough to realize the hierarchy of things.

“Get in line,” Rhysand growled, gripping the ridge of the raptor’s snout harder, just to make his point. Blue snarled at him weakly, shocked by the pain.

Rhysand let go, and Blue stared him down for a moment- and then stalked off into the brush, clicking the whole way.

“Can we not wrestle the raptors?” Cassian moaned, his eyes squeezed shut as he shook his head. 

“Agreed.” Azriel said quietly. 

“Dominance is the backbone of their instincts.” Rhysand said simply, even though he’d be lying if he said there wasn’t a sheen of sweat on his forehead, his hands slightly clammy- it was a risk he’d took, with Blue in this state. 

“What about the day that Blue challenges that dominance?  _ Really  _ challenges it?” Cassian pressed, eyeing foliage around them warily. 

“Then I suppose it’s good we have the guards here, isn’t it?” Rhysand shrugged,  even though they all knew he’d let himself get mauled before he let them shoot Blue. They all would.

“How’s Echo doing?” Rhysand prompted Cassian as they exited the enclosure, firmly locking the many gates behind them.

Cassian sighed, rubbing at his eyes. “Pretty shit. He challenged Blue earlier this week, you know?”

Rhysand raised his eyebrows, trying not to show his complete shock on his face. They were his brothers, yes, but they didn’t need to see him being uninformed and off-guard. It was almost like the raptor pack- dominance creates the ranks. Except he loved Az and Cassian like brothers, and wouldn’t dare treat them with prehistoric bullshit.

“And?” Rhysand asked, even though part of him already knew.

“Blue won, of course. Gave Echo a nasty scar on his face. I had to put a muzzle on him just to clean it.” Cassian muttered, his jaw clenched as he talked about his own raptor. Rhysand ignored the selfish part of him that beamed- Blue was the alpha, through and through.

“Delta?” Rhysand asked, wanting to change the subject before he stuck his foot in his mouth. Azriel shrugged.

“Brooding as ever. He doesn’t challenge Blue, of course, but has been testing them all lately.” Azriel explained. “Guards are reporting some weird behavior from him.”

“Like?”

“Isolation, odd clicks, aversion to contact. He’s not the friendliest, but he’s usually more involved with the pack.” Azriel explained with a frown, taking off his leather gauntlets.

Odd, for sure. Their small pack had been tight as thieves, a beautiful, intelligent unit with so much promise. 

But, of course, the other raptor had died. Charlie.

It had been Morrigan’s raptor, a weak thing that constantly had to put up with the other raptors’ poking and prodding. But she’d raised the runt of the pack into a fast, cunning  member alongside them all, before they’d moved to the Compound. Back when the raptors were still in adolescence, on the mainland.

But then Charlie had gotten sick, so suddenly it took them all by surprise. 

And when he died, it hadn’t just been Rhysand’s group that mourned; it had been the raptor pack, as well. Things felt different now, even after  the years.

Mor was different too, somehow. She still worked for Isla Nublar, but was instead working high up as a park coordinator, stuck in the main heart of the park, the Main Street. On the other side of the island from the Compound, which she never visited.

Maybe this was just the pack lost without Charlie there, Rhysand thought with a sigh. Maybe they were truly crippled now without the entirety of their pack.

“It’ll be fine.” Azriel told him firmly, noticing the strain on his face.

“You know,” Cassian pondered. “They could always use a big of leg-stretching out in the real park, not just cooped up in the Compound.”

“No,” Rhysand said, suddenly. His brothers both eyed him, taking in his quick, sudden response.

“Is this about the broad that came yesterday?” Cassian asked, an eyebrow raised.

“One of our raptors murdered one of the herbivores she cared for. A Microceratus.” Rhysand explained, feeling his gut tightened. He remembered sitting on that grassy plain with her, last last night, feeling the warm body of a tiny dinosaur curled in his lap, suckling at the bottle he held. It had almost purred in his lap, and all he could feel was guilt. Guilt that he hadn’t controlled his own creatures well enough, and now they were all orphans.

And Feyre- she’d lost something she’d raised for years, since coming out of the egg.  Just like Mor had lost Charlie.

“Microceratus?” Cassian echoed, furrowing his brow as he thought. “Those things are weak, super tiny. Not too smart, either.  It probably got in one of our’s way.”

“It doesn’t make it alright, though.” Rhysand shot back.

“So we watch them closer.” Azriel offered, an unreadable expression in his eyes. Rhysand wondered if he was thinking about Mor, had even considered how badly Charlie’s death had changed her.

“He’s right. Those military bastards sent them out yesterday, probably riled them up just so they’d kill and raise hell.” Cassian muttered.

“I’ll think about it. But you aren’t doing it without me.” Rhysand responded, firmly.

His phone rang then, interrupting his process of taking off his defensive leathers; he frowned at the number, unrecognizable.

But the voice was- smooth, clean and slightly raspy, dark.

“Hey, Rhysand. It’s Feyre.” 

He grinned broadly, and Cassian raised his eyebrows at his expression.

“Good morning, Feyre darling.” He purred, and Azriel scoffed loudly, Cassian letting out an interested coo. 

“We need to talk, away from all these  _ people.”  _ How she said the last word, no more than a growl, he clearly saw the picture- the same people that had been plaguing his own world, trying to use his creatures. Feyre continued.

“Would you like to join me on an assignment in the west Valley?”


End file.
